With a smile on her face, she reminded herself to go slow, that humans were delicate creatures. As it was, she worried that Dean might have a heart attack before they even had a chance to have some real fun. She could feel his heart thudding against her chest and nipped the tender skin below his ear just to feel it pound harder.
Dean wrapped his arms around Devyn and slid his hands up her back pressing her even closer to him. A shiver ran through her and she pulled her head back slightly so she could look into his lust filled eyes. "Dean," she moaned and then his lips, those glorious, sensuous, perfect, made to be kissed lips were pressed to hers gently, at first. They were soft and tender but with a growl deep in his throat Dean intensified the kiss. His mouth firmed against Devyn's and his tongue shot out and flicked against her lips. He stroked and caressed and begged for entry, pleaded. With a breathy sigh, she allowed him the entry he so desperately wanted. When their tongues met she felt a rush of liquid fire lower in her body. His hand slid to her hip leaving a warm, tingling trail in its wake. Dean caressed the curve of her hip and trailed his hand lower still until it came to rest just below the hem of her impossibly short dress. He caressed the silky skin there, teasing her every so often by slipping a finger even higher until it slid under the edge of her dress. She started to squirm under his ministrations, moaning and panting. With his cock nestled firmly across her cheeks, every movement sent shockwaves throughout his body. He pulled his mouth off hers, panting. He wrapped his hands around her waist and gently lifted her until she was standing in front of him.
Her full lips were swollen and her eyes cloudy with lust and confusion. "Dean?" She didn't understand. This was not what was supposed to happen. Had she done something wrong?
"We just need to get a bit more comfortable," he murmured as he stood. Taking her hand, he led her over to the couch. He sat and pulled her down so she was straddling him, and so he had easier access to her heat. Her dress was so short he could see she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. "Fuck,' he breathed as the bulge under his jeans, impossibly, swelled more. "Devyn, you gotta help a guy out, here," he pleaded.
She slid back a little to allow herself access and Dean wrapped his hands around her waist afraid she was going to get up. "I'm just giving myself a little room so I don't hurt you," she whispered. She trailed her hands up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his chest until she reached the hem of his shirt. She slid her hands up underneath and gently scratched. Dean held completely still, enjoying the sensation more than he thought was possible, watching her face as she caressed his abdomen. Then, with a quick jerk, she ripped his shirt off over his head and revealed his godlike body.
It was flawless and even sexier than in the dreams. In there, things were sort of soft, and blurry around the edges. It was nothing compared to the reality of touching this man. His chest was well defined from years of hunting, but not overly muscular. The skin was warm and golden from hours spent in the sun, probably working on his Baby. He was perfection. From his warm, green eyes, to the anti-possession tattoo on his left pectoral, even down to the Mark on his right forearm. She stroked the angry scar with one finger and a frown marred her brow. He didn't deserve this. His life was difficult enough as it was.
"It's from a welding torch," Dean murmured. A lie, but he didn't think he could tell her the truth. She'd think he was nuts and either kick him out, or leave herself, and the fiery ache in his jeans would kill him if either happened. Pulling one hand from her waist, he used it to tilt her face back up so she was looking at him and not the Mark. Her brow was furrowed and her bottom lip had disappeared between her teeth. If he didn't know better, he would suspect that those were tears shimmering in her eyes. "It doesn't hurt, "he whispered, running his thumb across her cheek. She offered him a small smile, her lip red and trembling. Gently, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Do you want to stop?" he asked, his lips still ghosting across hers. His brain, and parts further south, were screaming, praying she would want to continue, but knowing if she said the word, he would stop. She sat there for a full five minutes, just looking at him.
Oh God, she was going to say it. He could tell by the look in her eyes. There weren't enough cold showers in the world to save him from insanity if she stopped. Wait, can you die from hornyness!? He really didn't want to find out. He had just started planning how he would end it all when he felt a light touch through his jeans and then her lips were pressed so tightly to his he couldn't think. He opened his mouth to say something and her tongue thrust its way inside. It was an all-out assault on his tongue. She was flicking and taunting him until his tongue finally joined hers. Just when he was getting lightheaded from lack of air, the pressure on his lap increased for a split second and then it was gone. She pulled her mouth from his and kissed her way across his jaw and down to his neck. He leaned his head back to revel the feel of her mouth on his neck, sucking and biting.
She loved the effect she had on him. He was so wrapped up in what her mouth was doing he hadn't yet registered what her hands had done. But he would, and very soon. She slid a hand down either side of his rock hard cock, over the top of his boxers. Inch by devastatingly slow inch, she worked her way down until she could lightly stroke his balls through the material. At the intimate contact, Dean's head flew up so he could look at her. He stared her in the eye as she stroked him, light as a feather through the fabric. Her tongue darted out to lick her full bottom lip drawing his attention. It was at that exact moment her hand slid through the opening in his boxers and teasingly danced up his length. With a yelp, Dean jumped at the contact and his reaction caused another surge of heat to race toward her core.